


Secret Stash

by blerdxlines



Category: Cowboy Bebop (Anime)
Genre: Comfort Food, Crew as Family, Family Feels, Food, Gen, Homesickness, Platonic Kissing, Reader-Insert, Reader-Interactive, Short & Sweet, Surprise Kissing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-31
Updated: 2021-01-31
Packaged: 2021-03-17 18:00:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 497
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29104449
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blerdxlines/pseuds/blerdxlines
Summary: You're homesick and craving the taste of home, so Jet dips into his secret stash to set things right.
Kudos: 3





	Secret Stash

**Author's Note:**

> Jet Black is a creole Black man and no one can tell me otherwise.

You lulled into the room, plopping down listlessly onto the couch.

"What's got you all in a rut?"

You sighed quietly. "You ever…" You searched your brain for the words. "You ever missed a part of home so much that you could almost see it? Like, my mom's macaroni and cheese is so close you can almost taste it?"

"Sounds like ya need more oxygen to me."

You smacked your lips, "Jet!"

"I'm just kidding." He laughed.

"I'm being serious!" You pouted. "Sometimes. I just wanna be home." You sighed.

Jet paused for a moment, perhaps thinking about your words critically before setting down the bounty classifieds.

"Alright." He announced as he stood to his feet. "What do you want to eat, then? Macaroni? I'll make some."

You scoffed quietly, "You're gonna make macaroni?"

"Yeah, that's what I said." He stepped into the kitchen looping his apron around his neck. "What? You don't think I can whip up some old box noodles and cheese powder?"

"--Don't you fucking dare, Jet."

He burst into laughter, having already predicted your vile reaction.

"Nah, don't worry. Ol' Jet's got just the meal for some home sickness."

"What is it?"

"It's from my secret stash. Nothing too fancy, but it's a down home favorite. I'm sure you've probably had it."

"Secret stash, huh? I knew you've been holding out on us."

You smelt the familiar spiced scent of meat in the air, but you truly couldn't quite place it.

What was he cooking?

Bratwursts?

Hamburgers?

Sloppy Joes?

You couldn't really place it.

"What kinda bread ya like?"

"White bread."

"Good, cuz that's all we got." He chuckled.

The stop flipped off and the grease in the pan simmered down with it.

"Y/N." He called out, "Grape or orange?"

It was an easy decision for you.

"Orange."

"Good, I wanted grape anyway." He mumbled to himself.

When he finally came back in to join you he was holding two cans of pop in hand and a plate.

"Here." He sat the plate on the coffee table in front of you. "Hot links a la Jet."

It sure was a down home meal alright. Two hot links on a square of plain white bread and a warm can of soda.

"No ketchup?" You asked.

"Nope." He huffed, pulling off his pristine apron. "Naked, the way God intended."

"Amen." You laughed, grabbing hold of your plate.

Biting into the seared dog really did give you a feeling of familiarity.

It reminded you of summer cookouts, and family reunions, and grilling. It reminded you of watery Kool Aid, and swatting flies, and all the bittersweet moments on Earth.

It reminded you of…

"Jet." "Hm?" He replied, cracking open his can of grape pop.

"C'mere." You grabbed him by the chin, pulling him gingerly into a gentle, greasy cheek kiss.

"You're welcome." He hummed, a bit flustered by the gesture.

"So what's for dessert?" You smiled innocently.

"The plate."

You both burst into shared laughter.


End file.
